My name is Helen Jones and I’m a doctor employed by the British Antarctic Survey. For the next nine months I’ll be working on board the James Clark Ross as she performs scientific research in the Southern Ocean and supplies the British research bases of Antarctica.
I’ve started this blog in the hopes of entertaining and giving people a chance to see some pretty pictures. I might even throw some science in occasionally!

Friday, 7 October 2016

Calm is a dirty word...

Allegedly, (and I think my source for this is Neil
Gaiman, so it may not be totally reliable) in the days of the tall sailing
ships sailors would sometimes be becalmed in an area referred to as the
doldrums. After a week or two in the hot tropical sun with fresh water running
out sailors would start to hallucinate that the flat calm waters on either side
were solid fields that they could just step off the ship onto. I dismissed this
as a bit of creative writing until a week ago when we ourselves were in the
doldrums. We stop steaming at regular intervals each day in order to carry out
various scientific measurements, and when the boat stops moving, there is
nothing. Just flat, blue, dead calm on either side for as far as the eye can
see. Not even a whisper of wind. The sea was a hard impenetrable blue with a surface
slick as glass. It looked like force would be required to break the surface.

The evenings were amazing; I was told there was bio-luminescence
so I trotted up to the bow and spent the next hour staring at the
pretty. As the boat cuts through the water it disturbs plankton which luminesce
with this eerie pale green glow. It was absolutely pitch black apart from the
stars above and the waves foaming and glowing around the bow. And when I poked
my head over the side (maintaining a very tight grip at all times, otherwise,
eek!) it was just like flying through a black night with green clouds flowing
and curling underneath me. When my eyes adjusted to the dark I could see
the stars reflected in the surface of the ocean. Every so often there was a
little flash of light in amongst the water, which I think must have been flying
fish. So, so beautiful. And there are so many stars without the light
pollution! This keeps surprising me. To the point where although we haven't
crossed the equator I can't recognise many constellations because there are too
many stars! And I think that I saw a shooting star.

I woke up this morning to gray, lowering clouds. The
humidity has been rising almost unbearably during the last few days as we start
to head south towards the Equator. Walking outside of the nice, air conditioned
environment of the ship has been like walking into a warm, wet oven.When I moseyed outside and onto the deck this
morning it was to see sheet lightning playing across the clouds miles away. So
far away in fact, that I couldn’t actually hear the thunder at all. But the
storm was heading towards us and within half an hour we were being pelted with
rain whilst watching the lightning forking down. It did a nice job
of cooling the ship down; the rain hitting my face was cold but as it ran over
my feet after being warmed up by the ship’s deck it was blood warm. The ship’s
first mate told me that he’s been at sea when the ship was struck by lightning.
He made haste to reassure me that as the whole ship is metal it’s just
conducted down into the water and doesn’t actually fry any poor bugger who’s
holding onto the railings at precisely the wrong moment! “Made a hell of a bang
though.” he said, reminiscently. Then he shared that the metal core of the
fibre-glass antennae on the boat had vanished; vaporised by the incredible heat
of a direct lightning strike.

Have you heard of Neptune's court? Or the Crossing the Line Ceremony? Those
individuals who have never crossed the equator in a nautical fashion apparently
get dragged by Neptune's policeman to Neptune's court to face the god and his
missus (one of the crew in a padded bra and wig) and face the charges against
them. Only when they have paid for their crimes, are they permitted to cross
the line and to have the "freedom of the seas". Awesome. Apparently
back in the day this used to be pretty hard core with beatings, head shavings
etc. But nowadays everything has to be consensual (Hah- a slipping of standards
in every trade) so the punishment tends to consist of being covered in the
slops that our cook, has left to...mature...in the tropical sun for a week or
so before the ceremony. Oh, and kissing a fish. Apparently the list of my
crimes is very long already which I feel pretty indignant over! What precisely
is it that I’m supposed to have done?! But the man who normally does the head
shaving assures me that he won't touch mine as he thinks that red hair is too pretty to cut. Best get my henna out again tonight...